


Turn Your Dreams to Shame

by Miss M (missm)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 24601/Javert/M. le maire, Community: makinghugospin, Dirty Talk, Guilt, Imagination, Javert's Confused Boner, Kink Meme, M/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surely a kind and merciful God would have spared him these – he did not know whether to call them thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Your Dreams to Shame

**Author's Note:**

> From a kinkmeme prompt: "Somehow Valjean is split into two parts [...]: Jean Valjean the loving and merciful one, and 24601 the animalistic, impulse driven one [...] and the two have a three way with Javert as the panting overwhelmed sandwich filling to their super strong-dude bread". Yes.
> 
> Based upon the 2012 movie-verse; contains rough language and elements of D/s, amongst other things.

Javert had never put much stock in mercy, and that night, having lost track of the convict and the child on the outskirts of Paris, he was once again assured that mercy was not to be counted upon, at least not for him. Surely a kind and merciful God would have spared him these – he did not know whether to call them thoughts. Dreams would be a better word, or possibly nightmares.

But perhaps that was a mercy he did not deserve; perhaps this was a just sort of punishment: that he should lie here, in a cold bed in a naked room, his body uneasy and his mind restless; that once again he should be haunted by the ghost of Jean Valjean. The man of two faces, who had deceived him so cunningly once; who, in his guise of benevolent mayor – so handsome and gentle and polite – had earned Javert's trust. He had seemed honest and conscientious, had made Javert belive he was an upstanding citizen, had made him want...

And then there was the convict, the barbarian in rags, who had glared at Javert with defiant eyes and curled his strong hands into fists, his insolent voice shaking with barely-containted rage. Two faces of the same man, shocking as it was: the soft-spoken mayor was no more than a shell, a skin covering the wild criminal underneath.

And yet some part of Javert had never been surprised: the part of him he did not like to give much thought to, which he would normally bury as deep as possible. It was the part of him which had looked at the mayor's large hands and wondered how they would feel against his waist; it was the part of him which had ordered 24601 to move a heavy mast before leaving Toulon, and which had relished in watching those impossibly strong muscles flex under the toil.

It was this part of him which tormented him now, with whispers in his mind of Monsieur Madeleine's smile and his hands and the warmth in his eyes, all of which had haunted Javert's sleepless nights before, and which relentlessly kept doing so, even now that he knew the man was a criminal.

 _But they were nothing alike,_ he thought stubbornly, turning on his side. _That was a completely different man; why, it was as if they were two separate men, he and the convict!_

His stomach gave a jolt, and he took a deep breath. For at this thought an image had come to him, sharp and clear: the two men, the mayor and the convict, and himself between them, trembling from their presence, caught between both of their strong bodies, helpless in their arms...

He felt his body respond, and groaned softly. He would _not_ think like this; he would not dream of this. He would go to sleep and rise early and not allow his wretched flesh to torment him more than it already had done.

But the devilish part of him which delighted in such things was without mercy. In the quiet of the room, his mind started playing tricks on him; he saw the mayor's face before his eyes, heard his voice whisper in his ear – _do not resist_. And as he still tried to resist that voice, he imagined the convict's hands on his waist, ruthless and rough, and he gasped at the vividness of it, felt himself harden even more; and he closed his eyes, resigned, and gave himself over to the fantasy.

Behind his shut eyes, the mayor smiled at him. It was a beautiful smile, full of warmth. Javert could not remember anyone smiling at him like that, and his throat tightened. The mayor touched his cheek and kissed him – a chaste touch of lips that made Javert's breath hitch. "Do you like this?" he murmured.

"Yes," Javert said. The mayor's right hand was still on his cheek; the other pair of hands were still on his waist, holding him, a reminder that he was overpowered. A shudder went through him. "Yes, sir, I do."

The mayor smiled again. "We thought so."

He leaned in and kissed Javert anew, with more force this time, his lips parted and demanding. Javert pushed into the kiss, but did not dare move his body closer to the mayor – he was held still in the grasp of strong hands; it was not his decision to make. He did allow himself to moan as the mayor pulled away again, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his throat.

"This was what you always wanted, wasn't it?" he murmured in Javert's ear. "I did notice it, your eyes upon me all the time. Staring, the way you also did in prison. Isn't that true?"

"It is," someone hissed into his other ear. Javert trembled at 24601's voice; his hips, unvoluntarily, pushed back against the body behind him. "Never took your eyes off me, did you?"

He wanted to protest, but in this fantasy there was no room for lies, only for naked and shameful truth. "I couldn't," he choked. "I couldn't, may the Lord forgive me."

"But you do not believe in forgiveness, do you, Javert?" said the mayor, and now his smile was slightly different – there was something like pity in it. "Look at us."

He looked, and he saw that he was naked. He saw that the mayor was naked too, stretched out on the bed alongside him, and he shivered again. Behind him, 24601 moved closer, his body hot and large, a strong arm coming up to snake around his chest. Javert moaned.

"This is what you desire," said the mayor. "You shall have it." Another smile, a glint in the dark eyes. "And we shall have you."

"Oh, _Lord,_ " Javert groaned, a great shudder going through his body. "Oh, yes, _please_..."

The mayor put his hand around Javert's neck and pulled him into another kiss, hot and fierce. "You are so desperate," he murmured against Javert's mouth. "So hard and aching. For us. Poor, poor Javert –" And he laughed, placing a hand on Javert's head and gently pushing him downwards.

24601 pressed up against him, hissed in his ear again. "Your mouth, Javert. On him. And me in you. Hard, harder than you ever dreamed, so hard you will not be able to walk for a week." The arm around his chest tightened dangerously. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Arousal vibrated through Javert, rushing through his blood. "On your knees," 24601 ordered, roughly gripping him around his waist and dragging him up on all fours. "Spread your legs for me, like you dreamed of doing back then, open up wide for me, you little slut."

He spread his legs as wide as he could, and the mayor's gentle hand was on his chin now, tilting it upwards; the mayor was on his knees before him. Javert's hungry eyes took in the sight of the mayor's swollen flesh, so large and straining close to his mouth. The mayor laughed softly, presumably at the look on his face. "You may go on," he said with a kind smile.

At the same time as Javert's mouth found its goal and closed around it – and _oh_ , it felt so good against his lips and tongue, so much better than he could have imagined – a wet finger pushed into him, none too gently. He moaned around the mayor's hard flesh; the mayor stroked his hair and drew out of his mouth. 24601 pushed another finger inside and snarled, "Only spit and still they go in like it's nothing, you're so eager for it. How many convicts have been here before me, fucking you this way, _Javert?_ " At his name, the fingers twisted, and Javert cried out.

"None," he gasped, "you're the first one, the first one to ever – oh, God, God," and the mayor slipped back into his open, panting mouth at the same time as 24601 drew out his fingers, gripped his hips, and took him in one hard, long slide. Javert buckled a little at the force of it, but managed to remain on his hands and knees, trying to push back against 24601's hard thrusts without pulling back from the mayor, who was now making soft, pleased noises.

"So good, Javert," he murmured. His name sounded so different when spoken in the mayor's voice instead of 24601's harsh tones, though the effect was rather similar; it made Javert's own aching arousal twitch. "You are so good – I do not believe I will last..."

Javert made a desperate sound in his throat as the mayor made to pull away, and the mayor stilled, then gripped Javert's shoulders – but gently, gently, he was always so gentle – and 24601 thrust again, hard, driving Javert forward, and the mayor spent himself in his mouth, sighing Javert's name.

"It's not over yet," 24601 told him roughly, thrusting into him again. Javert swallowed, licking his lips to gather up any escaping fluid, and the mayor's thumb swept over his lower lip. He was straining, so near the edge now, but it wasn't over, it would not be over until they told him it was over and let him go; God, he did not want it to be over –

The mayor was smiling at him again, looking at Javert as no one had looked at Javert before. He was still on his knees; now he put his hands under Javert's arms and lifted him, like he weighed nothing. 24601 shifted behind him, and then there was a tug backwards; 24601 sat back on his heels and pulled Javert with him. He sank down even deeper onto 24601's length; it was impossibly hard and huge; it seemed to fill all of him. He threw his head back and cried out, and 24601 bit his neck.

The mayor followed, flush against Javert's stomach and chest; he was closely trapped between them again, 24601's body against and inside his own, strong arms holding him tight. The mayor put his arms around Javert and kissed him, open-mouthed and lovingly. Then he reached down and took Javert in one of his large, warm hands.

"Come for us now," he murmured, "come for us, show us how much you love it."

The words, the voice, the hand – 24601's last hard tug downwards, their arms and breaths and strong bodies – it all came together and apart, exploding behind his eyes in a white-hot blast of sensation, and Javert screamed, and spent himself, and shuddered, and fell.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone. His limp body was lying flat on the narrow bed, the sheets twisted between his legs. His hand was sticky, and the sweat on his brow was getting cool.

He got up and washed and tried not to think. Then he tried to pray. The words came falteringly; he mumbled through the Lord's Prayer two or three times before getting back to bed.

The stain on the sheets reminded him of his disgrace, but there was nothing to be done about that. He would do his best to sleep, his treacherous body sated at last, and perhaps, at least for now, his dreams would show him mercy.


End file.
